Never Touch the Ocean
by Keimei
Summary: One night, Will reflects on what was, what is, and what could have been.


**Title: Never Touch the Ocean**

**Author: Keimei**

**Rating: PG, maybe PG-13**

**Summary: One evening, Will reflects on what has been, what is, and what could have been.**

**Notes/Warnings: Angsty Will.**

**Disclaimer: I own many things Disney. However, I do not own Disney, so I don't own the boys. **

The docks at Port Royal were always quiet at night. They weren't closed, but the dear Commodore had made clear his thoughts on the level of noise acceptable after dark. And so, there were no drunken sailors wandering around, they were all in taverns or on their ships. There was no off-kilter laughter, no lewd jokes, no bawdy sea shanties. Faint whispers of revelry in the taverns could be heard once in a while, but for the most part, anyone who sat at the end of the dock was alone with his thoughts. And at the moment, that was what Will wanted.

The blacksmith's dark eyes scanned the horizon and setting sun, searching in vain for what wasn't there. The Caribbean breeze, which only scant hours ago hadn't cooled the sweat on his brow, caused him to shiver as it played through his hair. A glance towards the sky showed the dark clouds that had been threatening the town all day were finally ready to break loose. Even as the first few drops of rain fell he didn't move, didn't get up and go back to his room in the shop where he would be protected from the elements. Instead, he pushed forward a bit, dangling his bare feet closer to the surface of the water. The dock was too high, though, or his legs too short; he would never touch the ocean.

_I'll never touch the ocean, he thought, __I _made my choice_. His gaze shifted wistfully back to the horizon. Once, once he had touched the ocean. Once, in a moment of madness, he had sprung a pirate captain from a cell, helped said pirate commandeer a ship of the navy, and went chasing after a crew of cursed pirates and the love of his young life. He had been a pirate for those precious few days; he had been free. And then, for the promise of an unfulfilled love, he had given it all up and strayed from the ocean. _

The rain had begun to fall steadily, not that the young man noticed. The strands of hair that had fallen out of the ponytail at the nape of his neck as he slaved over the forge were dripping water and sticking to his face, as were his shirt and trousers, but he didn't flinch. His thoughts were too far away, dwelling on what was, what is, and what could have been, how he could have touched the ocean. 

After his adventures everything had been so clear to him. He would forget about his time at sea with his mad captain, settle down with his love and live a respectable life, the life Elizabeth's husband would have, away from the ocean.

But then he watched Jack swim away to the _Black Pearl_, away from Norrington, away from the hangman's noose, away from him. The long days spent on the _Interceptor_ came back to him in exquisite detail that night. The feelings that had stirred, the sensations the pirate had elicited from him night after night, the feel of slick skin against his own with the taste of rum and the spicy Jack smell that had enveloped him. The acts he had allowed, had used to forget about his troubles if only for a little while were stirring in his memory, haunting him. His dreams, the ones that were always smooth pale skin, silky blonde hair, and soft curves, suddenly contained familiar feelings instead of ones he had only dreamed of. They were salty tanned skin, rough hands, and salt-chapped lips. Coarse black hair, tightly muscled limbs, and the faint click beads as they moved above the ocean. 

The pirate would have taken him with him. If he ever doubted it for a moment, Will would only have to think of the look on the captain's face and the tone in his voice as he had said his name and the words "Nice hat." Like the time he had stolen the other man's tricorn head covering and put it on… with nothing else. Jack had barely restrained himself from ravishing the blacksmith then and there, or so he had said later. This time he had only smiled, as he had done last time, but in a wan sort of way instead of the "fuck me now" sort of way. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the memory, at the time when he could reach out and touch the ocean. 

The sun was down completely now, and the rain picking up. Will, though, continued to sit at the edge of the dock, thinking. He should go, Elizabeth would get worried. Elizabeth worrying should worry him as well, but he couldn't bring himself to. Not for the first time, he wished he had made a different decision at that fatal moment. He wished he had gone with Jack. With Jack he would be free, not bound by the ways of the upper class. He was tiring of the stuffy mannerisms, the stiff cloths, the rules, everything he had never had to worry about being only a blacksmith's apprentice, but now was expected to know as the fiancé of the Governor's Daughter. Everyday, as he learned what he would need to know, he found himself slipping further and further away from the ocean.

The footsteps behind him were faint at first. As they grew louder Will imagined he could hear the soft jingles and bangles of beads and other hair ornaments clanking as the person walked and the soft smack of rain on leather. Never though, not in a million years would he dare hope. Will didn't look, even when the stranger stopped and spoke.

"Enjoyin' the view?" Will thought the voice sounded familiar, but couldn't bring himself to turn around in fear of disappointment. "There's not much to see out there now lad." Still no answer. "Unless of course yer lookin' for storm clouds and rain. Then you've got yerself somethin' ta look at."

The blacksmith dared to turn around. He could make out the familiar shape of a man sitting down next to him, even through the rain and darkness. "Jack?" he asked, disbelief and hope coloring his voice.

"Aye lad?" 

"Is it…?"

"Aye, it's me."

"Why…?"

"Couldn't stay away. Not with you here alone."

"How did you…?"     

"'M Captain Jack Sparrow love. You know that."

"Jack?"

"Come on now lad. Tell ol' Jack what's botherin' you."

Will felt rather than saw the arm slide around him, bringing him into a strong embrace. Comfort and warmth flooded into him. He leaned into the other man, and for the first time in months, the blacksmith felt at safe and bared his heart.

"I'm lost Jack," he choked out. He could feel the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, and for once he didn't want to stop them. They began to fall, mingling with the rain as they traced many a path down his cheeks. "I've lost it. I've lost the ocean."

Will felt the chuckle in the pirate's chest, heard it in his voice. "Is that all Will?" He glared at the pirate. "Don' look at me like that. A man like you could never loose the ocean." He hugged Will closer to him and clasped his hands. "The ocean is in you lad. She flows through your veins with your blood once she's taken ahold of you. All you have to do is let her take control." Jack let go of the other man and stood up.

"Jack, I want to touch the ocean."

"And you will, lad. Come with me."

Will didn't hesitate. He took the offered hand and allowed the pirate captain to pull him to his feet. He allowed Jack to guide him back to the smithy, where he collected his few possessions and took his favorite sword from the rack, conveniently not seeing his companion do the same. He took the pirate's hand again and together they walked into the rain and down to the dock where a rowboat was waiting. Will settled in and Jack rowed them to the Pearl, Will skimming his hand over the surface of the ocean the entire time. 

"Welcome home Will," Jack said once they were safely on board.

"It's true then. There really is no place like home."

~*~

By the next morning, no one knew the Pearl had ever been in the harbor of Port Royal. When Elizabeth Swann entered her fiancé's shop, she noted a lack of blacksmith, but the presence of an envelope with her name written on it. She opened it, immediately recognizing the writing. Tears began to fall down her face, just as the letter fell when she turned away and left the smithy, never to return again. 

And in the dust, she left behind her memories of William Turner and his letter.

_"I'm sorry _Elizabeth___, but I must be free. I must touch the ocean."_


End file.
